I kan haz followerz?

You know you laugh at LOLCats. don't front.

I have discovered the blog has new Followers, as indicated at the bottom of the page.

I want to give big shout and a thank you to "Violet," of the Lemonade Stand, who has been a follower attached for some time, and has the distinction of being the first DrawingIn reader that I did not know personally. And she has been a regular visitor. Writing that made me feel neglectful, so I popped by to see video of the now not-so-baby.

There are new followers now, and this almost constitutes... a following.

I added the visit counter some time ago as well. Don't believe it for a moment; it counts me. It is not supposed to count me, but I know that it does, so 15,000 visits in the past year is grossly overinflated. I should try to fix it, but I didn't know there was a following. 2 new followers this week, and it is almost a Movement.




that's the Group W Bench.

Only in the Drawing In Room do we serve up such an ankle-deep photo reference.

I had a Google Reader subscription for a while. But it was Buggy in IE6, and I couldn't find the unsubscribe, so I just left it alone. I do follow a few blogs, but not in the public "I am a Follower" way that my Followers have chosen. See how I just said My Followers, all causal, like everyone has them?





see me.... feel meee.... touch me....


A friend recently launched her blog and asked for some feedback on it. I began a sentence with "The most successful blogs...." what does that even mean? Money making, I guess? High traffic? I look at others' blogs I follow and they have these high traffic numbers, and 50 comments per post, and I think... well, I would probably crack under the pressure anyway. Successful for me is just frequent. entertaining -- for both of us, but I'll be honest - I am never sure what you as a readership will respond to. I hope that what I find interesting, you do too.

I'll apologize to my new followers for their signing on during a period were I seem to be making little sense, and thinking of nothing of consquence beyond how badly The Banana Nut Cheerios product turned out and whether everyone in Pueblo, Colorado has a PO Box.

Sometimes we talk about politics and money and god, the war, people who haveinfluenced our lives, working our programs and taking our inventories, babies and bosses and ViewMaster reels.

And sometimes we just want to laugh at a funny caption on a cat picture. Miss Bender regrets.
Better luck next time.

God made snowstorms so...

... people would watch David Lean movies.

Spent our March snow day watching Ryan's Daughter. This is why you can't remember if you have seen Ryan's Daughter.

Because you have seen Dr Zhivago. Not your fault, really, if you can't tell Sarah Miles from Julie Christie, even in this 2 shot.

One has snow. One doesn't.

Oh, check THIS out.

David Lean has some kind of Hitchcock-thing for the wide bottom lip and crystal eyes.

The one with the sand was Lawrence of Arabia.

I hope you don't log on here to find anything deep and meaningful. That's out of stock right now.

Errors and expectations - New England Style

You read that right.

You're on a Need to Know basis

Today's post is published to the BWFS&SC. Enjoy.

This Season on Drawing In

It's time you got to know the new cast of characters at the gym. I have become a gym rat (again, I am afraid) and now that I am there every day I am free to assign personae to my co-members.

When I belonged to the Waltham Athletic Club, I was actually more of a gym rat, but probably not working as hard. The WAC had more toys in it -- specifically, a full-sized pool, 2 hot tubs, a steam, a sauna, a full-court basketball gym, and some circuit stuff too. I would speand hours there. Blue Cross paid for 1/3 of it, so in my otherwise unglamorous life I could take advantage of a "club" that required me to change clothes about 3 times when I was there. It had other things I didn't even take advantage of, like tennis courts, raquetball, and an on-site golf pro. (how the bloody did I even afford that? I don't recall).

But I moved away. Because I wanted a house and blahblahblah. (though I'll tell you, House nearly paid for itself tax-break wise this year. That piece of change might have otherwise gone to the military-industrial complex. )

So I got all escrowed up, moved to the exurbs, and the Mill, and got fat and sleepy.

I have never really looked like Jamie Leigh, well maybe here, but only because Laurie Strode and I had the same awful wardrobe.

I would never find the WAC again. But I never got much healthier at the WAC. Enter Global.

Who's Who at the Club
Dave: Signed me up. I do not think that is really his name, but I can't remember what his name is. So in my head he is Dave, and in person, he is, "hey, how's it goin'?" with enthusiastic familiarity.

The Rabbit: This is a kid who works-out with his father. He is likely older than he appears, and his father has dragged him along to the gym to beef up his 98-pt paleness. He walks toes-first and skirts around people without looking at them, only out of the corners of his eyes.

The Gals: As you might imagine, they work out together with a staff trainer, and they howl and "cut-up" while they try to make sense out of the cockamammie equipment stashed in every corner. If laughter is the best workout, they are the elite.

Jammer: My brain makes these names up on its own. I am only aware of them when I see someone and my brain announces to me how they are categorized. I can do better with The Jammer, but I only discovered her the other day. She was on the treadmill rocking out to her iPod -- eyes shut, head banging. May I add that she looks like a home ec teacher, or the office manager at the mortgage company. When I saw her the 2nd time, my cortex said, "hey, that's tha Jammer." My cortex is very excited when it recognizes people, and likes to tell me so.

Keri Strug: Teenage phenom athlete of some kind with her own trainer she addresses with the intimate respect one would an Edwardian Governess.

The Nudist: Self-explanatory. If you are drying your hair in the dressing area -- however long that takes -- on a Saturday evening, naked... you are an exhibitionist.

Medicine Ball: Props to this guy. He is about 60, made out of cinderblock, and has a routine which involves carrying 2 handled-medicine balls, one in each hand, upstairs to the "mezzanine," across the floor, down the other side, then back up again.

Creepy Guy: Prefers the treadmill behind the thigh machines and waits for the ladies. We stay away.

Names I imagine I have:
Pink Towel

Sauna (I am the only one ever in it. Let's hope Nudist doesn't ruin this for everybody)
mcSweaty

I have never found a machine that makes me sweat like (product endorsement) the Expresso Bike, which I just discovered has a bike-powered video game built in, in addition to its many virtual routes. Take that, Wii Fitness.

After an invigorating dash by the beach or through the redwood forest, I enjoy hunting dragons in this masochistic version of Jockey's Ridge where you lose all your points if you happen to fall into the water. Plus the dragons have figured out I can not possibly follow them up the dunes, so they hover there and laugh at me.


Now I just want to Beeee there, before the snow comes and socks me in for the entire day tomorrow. Gotta go. More later.